=7. Literary Successes.=――And presently Mendelssohn grew famous. He wrote a great deal, and Lessing was godfather to his first book; and then they brought out together a little work called ‘Pope as a Metaphysician.’ A year or two later, Mendelssohn gained the prize which the Academy of Berlin offered for the best essay on the problem ‘Are Metaphysics susceptible of Mathematical Demonstration?’ Kant, the great German philosopher, was one of the competitors whom Mendelssohn distanced in this contest. Together with Lessing and one or two other friends, he brought out for some years a serial called ‘Literatur-Briefe,’ a sort of literature, science, and art review. The works, however, by which he is best known are his ‘Jerusalem’ and his ‘Phædon.’ ‘Jerusalem,’ published in 1783, is a sort of comprehensive survey of Judaism in its religious and its national aspect. ‘Phædon,’ published in 1767, is an eloquent summary of all that religion and reason and experience urge in support of our belief in the immortality of the soul. In less than two years ‘Phædon’ ran through three editions, and it was quickly translated into English, French, Dutch, Italian, Danish, and Hebrew. He paraphrased the whole of the Pentateuch into pure German, and made a metrical translation of the Psalms. He translated, too, Manasseh ben Israel’s famous _Vindiciæ Judæorum_ into German, and published it with a very eloquent preface in 1782. Another literary enterprise, which brought him more notice than he cared for, was a correspondence with a too zealous Swiss minister named Lavater, who, with a keen eye to conversion, sought to draw Mendelssohn into a public religious discussion on the relative merits of Judaism and Christianity. Mendelssohn hated controversy, and, moreover, had a sincere conviction that no cause, and certainly no religious cause, is ever forwarded by it. ‘It is by character, and not by controversy,’ as he wrote, ‘that Jews can shame the bad opinion that may be held of them.’ Nevertheless, when the choice, between standing to his colours or sneaking behind them, was forced upon him, we may be sure that he did not take refuge in any comfortable compromise. Like the three who were not ‘careful’[62] of their answer, even under fear of the fiery furnace, he too testified to the truth, and had no dread. The correspondence ended with a sincere apology from Lavater, and an added respect for Mendelssohn.